Submerged (30 page)

Chapter Forty
-Nine

Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 4:32 PM

Marcus's cell phone rang. It was Zur.

"Hey, John. What's up?"

"Just thought you should know we're getting nowhere with Kingston. He still claims he's innocent."

"Don't they all?"

"Yeah, except we can't find any evidence against him."

"What about the confession from the
Whitaker woman?"

"She didn't specifically name Wesley Kingston. We'll hold him, but unless we find
something concrete…"

"You may have to let him walk."
Shit!

"We'll have no choice. He has a solid alibi. So while he may have motive, we can't pin him to the crime scene. Nor can we find any link between
Kingston and Rufus Delaney."

"What's Delaney have to say, now that
Tracey is dead?"

"He still won't admit she hired him. And we haven't found a trace of the money."

"He's probably got it stashed somewhere."

"We're still checking him out. Something tells me we're missing the connection between Delaney and Kingston."

Delaney and Kingston…

Marcus stared out the
windshield, his eyes resting on the license plate of the vehicle in front of him. JU5T1C3—an odd combination for an Alberta plate.

He narrowed his eyes.
JUST…once…three?

Then it came to him.
JUSTICE.

His gaze jerked toward Rebecca's house as the pieces slipped into place.

Walter Kingston, Wesley's father, was a lawyer. And what did lawyers usually want? Justice.

The man was wealthy, respected and in a position of power.

Marcus redialed John's number. Three rings and his friend picked up.

"Did you ever check out Walter
Kingston?" Marcus asked.

"The lawyer?"

"Yeah. He's Rebecca's father-in-law."

"We interviewed him after Mrs. Kingston was found, but he didn't know anything about his son or the
Whitaker woman's plans. And he seemed to have a decent relationship with Mrs. Kingston. Even she said so." Zur cleared his throat. "You think he had something to do with this?"

Marcus groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know. I'm probably grasping at straws here."

"Hold on. Let me check something."

Seconds
later, Zur came back on the line. "We missed it. It was there all along, but we didn't dig far enough."

"What?"

"Back a few years, when Walter Kingston worked criminal law, he represented someone we both know."

"Let me guess. Rufus Delaney."

"The one and only."

"Shit…"
Marcus turned off the ignition.

"Listen, Marcus, as soon as I get off the phone and get a warrant, I'm going to have one of our tech guys check out his bank records."

"You think he's the one who paid off Delaney?"

"
Tracey said someone loaned her the money. We know Wesley Kingston doesn't have any. Daddy Kingston's the next best thing. We're going to send a car to Kingston's place and pick him up."

"He's not there."

"What? Where the hell is he?"

Marcus climbed out of the car
and quietly closed the door. "He went into Rebecca's house over twenty minutes ago. I'm going in."

"
No, stay where you are. In your vehicle. I'll have cars be there with backup in less than ten minutes."

Marcus crossed the street.
"He's in there with her now."

"
Stay in your car!"

"Sorry, John. I can't do that. Rebecca's in danger."

"Wait!"

But he was no longer listening.

Tucking the cell phone into his pocket, Marcus strode up the sidewalk. At first, he figured he'd rush through the front door, but common sense kicked in. What if Walter Kingston had a gun? No. His best chance of saving Rebecca was bringing the element of surprise.

He
crept up to the living room window. Lights from the kitchen and a lamp near the door illuminated the room. There was no sign of Walter Kingston. Or Rebecca.

He moved to the front door, turned the knob and let out a soft breath when it opened. Slipping into the house, he eased the door closed. Then he listened. Someone moved at the far end of the house.

With cautious footsteps, he proceeded into the house. From his previous visit, he knew the floor plan. The bedrooms were in the back. That's where he'd find Kingston and Rebecca.

Passing through
the kitchen, he spotted a pill bottle on the counter. It rested on its side, a pile of small blue pills next to it. A kettle next to both.

Shit! He's drugged her.

As he tiptoed down the hall, Marcus caught sight of Colton's bedroom. It was exactly like he'd last seen it, with clothing and sporting equipment spread out across the floor—including a worn-out hockey stick.

That'll do
.

He strode into the room, grabbed the stick and continued
down the hall, hockey stick raised.

"What are you doing?" he heard Rebecca
say from inside her bedroom.

The sounds of her slurred voice combined with running water made Marcus shiver.
I'm coming, Rebecca. Hold on.

"
Relax, Rebecca," Walter Kingston replied.

Marcus muffled a curse. Then he stepped up to the bedroom door, which was cracked open an inch, and peered inside. The room was empty, but dancing shadows came from the open doorway into the en suite.

He moved swiftly into the room. He scrutinized his surroundings, desperate to find a way to catch Kingston off guard. He had to get him out of the bathroom, away from Rebecca. How?

A laptop sat on the bed, its screen glowing. Had Kingston caught her in bed checking
e-mails?

Marcus approached the laptop, and when he read the document displayed, his stomach clenched. It was a suicide note. From Rebecca. Either Kingston had typed it, or he'd made Rebecca do it.

Splashing sounds came from the bathroom.

"No!" Rebecca cried. "Stop!"

Marcus spun toward the hallway, nearly knocking over the laptop. Forgetting his previous plan to lure Walter Kingston back into the bedroom, he darted toward the doorway.

What he saw made his heart stop.

Rebecca was in the bathtub, fully clothed, while Walter Kingston held her head underwater with one hand. In his other hand, he held a straight blade.

Marcus would have taken a slap shot at the man's head, but at the sound of footsteps, Kingston whipped around, his eyes locking on Marcus's
, the knife against the back of Rebecca's neck.

"Let her go!" Marcus shouted.
"It's over, Mr. Kingston. The police are on their way."

Rebecca's head was still beneath the water.

"Let Rebecca go," he said again, moving closer.

Kingston raised the blade. "
Stay back! I don't know who you are, but this isn't your concern." He yanked Rebecca's head up, and she gulped for air. "It's all
her
fault."

Marcus lowered the hockey stick and held his other hand up to stall him. "Listen, Rebecca didn't do anything other than marry your son."

"Wesley?" The man sneered. "He's no son of mine. He's a weakling."

"The police know everything. They'll be here any second. If you step away from her and put the blade down, things won't get any worse for you."

"Worse? Tracey is dead. Wesley's in jail. And that bastard Rufus is probably singing like a fucking canary." Kingston's lips thinned. "So, yeah, how could things possibly get worse?" He drew the straight blade underneath Rebecca's chin and a thin line of blood appeared.

Marcus flinched. "
Let Rebecca go, Walter. The kids need her."

"It's too late, Mr. Whoever-You-Are."

"S-superhero," Rebecca slurred.

Marcus frowned.
Kingston must have drugged her first.

As Kingston's head
swiveled toward her, Marcus lunged forward, but Kingston must have heard him because the man twisted around and swiped at him with the knife. The blade slashed across Marcus's arm, tearing through the fabric of his jacket and slicing through skin. Blood gushed from the wound.

Marcus growled a curse
and batted the blade from the man's hand. It skittered across the floor. Kingston let out a roar and rushed at Marcus, tackling him with startling agility. The hockey stick flew out of Marcus's hand, and they rolled across the bathroom floor, each struggling to get the upper hand.

Marcus landed a punch
to Kingston's left cheek.

The man
went down, but he didn't stay down. Without warning, Kingston grabbed Marcus and pinned him to the floor.

Before Marcus realized what had happened
, the man was on top of him, his hands wrapped around Marcus's throat, squeezing.

Marcus gasped
, and his vision became distorted.
Oh God, Rebecca…

He blinked and saw
movement by the bath tub.

Then
he saw the hockey stick slice through the air. It made a sickening sound as it connected with the back of Kingston's head. The man's eyes rolled back and his mouth gaped as if he wanted to say something. Then he slumped forward, his face resting inches from Marcus's.

Marcus scrambled out from beneath Kingston. Pressing two fingers to the man's neck, he felt a faint pulse.

"Is he dead?" Rebecca said in a shaky voice.

"No."

He heard her blow out a pent-up breath. Her shoulders slumped and he reached her as she collapsed on the bloody floor. Sweeping her up in his arms, he strode out of the bathroom and set her down on the bed.

"You think you'll ever be done rescuing me?" she asked
in a groggy voice.

"Probably not—if you can't kick this drug habit you've got." When she stared at him in confusion, he added, "That's twice now that someone tried to drug you."
He grinned, then gathered her close and kissed her hair. "I thought you were dead."

"Apparently, I'm not that easy to kill," she
slurred.

They heard shouts coming from the front of the house.
The cavalry had arrived.

"Marcus?" someone yelled.

"John Zur," Marcus said to Rebecca. Then he hollered, "We're back here! Kingston is down."

As footsteps thundered down the hall, Rebecca stared
at the broken hockey stick on the floor. "I owe Colton a hockey stick."

He grinned. "We'll buy him all new gear."

"You're bleeding," she said with a gasp.

He looked down at his arm. A thick trail of blood oozed down his sleeve and dr
ipped onto the floor. "It's a flesh wound. You aren't afraid of a little blood, are you?"

When she shook her head, he said, "Good." Then he hugged her.

Chapter Fifty

Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 5:28 PM

After Walter was taken into custody and the house was cleared, Rebecca changed into some warm clothes, then joined Detective Zur and Marcus at the kitchen table. Marcus had already made coffee, and she grabbed a mug and sipped it, fighting back the tears that simmered in her eyes.

"Thank God you didn't finish the tea," Marcus said, shaking his head slowly.

Still lightheaded, she glanced at him but said nothing. She knew how close she'd come to death. A few sips more and it would have been lights out. Walter would've succeeded in drowning her.

Detective Zur sat down across from her.
"Your father-in-law will be going away for a long time, Mrs. Kingston."

"Please. Call me Rebecca. That name…" She shivered.

"Of course." The detective placed a hand over hers. "Rebecca."

"Seems like
Walter Kingston went through an awful lot of trouble just to get back the money for loans he gave Tracey and Wesley," Marcus muttered.

"
That's why we never considered him a suspect. The guy was loaded."

"
What I can't comprehend is why Walter would go to all this trouble to get me out of the way," she said. "He didn't need the money. And he had no personal reason to see me…dead."

"There
is
another reason," Detective Zur replied.

Rebecca
frowned. "What?"

"
This is what we've been able to piece together. Walter Kingston was working on a major merger deal with two very well-known eBook retailers—one from Canada, the other from the US. It would've been huge news, especially for the Canadian company, which Walter represented. He'd spent thousands on research, all of which would have been recouped once the merger went through. Not to mention, he'd earn a hefty sum for closing the deal."

"But what's that got to do with me?"

"Everything started with Wesley."

"His gambling,"
she guessed.

"
Wesley had borrowed money from his father to repay his gambling debts, then incurred more debt. That's when Tracey Whitaker went to Walter and relayed what Wesley had told her about the inheritance you received from your grandfather."

"The
kids'
money," she corrected.

"Yes.
She convinced him that, with you out of the picture, Wesley could get his hands on that money, clear his debts and repay the loans to Walter. He knew he had to do something to help Wesley because if word got out about his son's gambling, the companies would pull out of the merger and—"

"And the Canadian company would dump
Walter as their lawyer," she finished.

Detective Zur nodded. "Exactly.
Kingston would lose millions in the deal."

"So he's the one who hired Rufus Delaney to run me off the road."

"Yes. And when that failed, he paid Tracey to drug you in the hospital."

Rebecca recalled
Tracey's words.
"That's the way he wanted it, planned it. He paid that guy to run her off the road. He said I had to finish it, that we'd get the money for sure then. There was no other way I could pay back the goddamn loan."

"At the hospital,
" she said, "right before she was shot, we thought she was saying that Wesley had been her partner in crime."

"But all along it was his father," Marcus said.

Rebecca thought of Wesley, of her marriage, of all the lies. Her children had almost paid the price for his behavior.
Never again!

"Life isn't all sunshine and roses, is it?" Marcus said.

She shook her head. "Maybe it's time to get a new life." She gazed into his eyes. "Both of us."

"Time for me to go," the detective said. "You two can come down in the morning
, and I'll take your statements then. You both look like you've been through hell."

"And back," Marcus agreed.

"You should stop by the hospital and get checked out. You're going to need stitches in your arm."

"Later. Right now, John, I want to sit awhile and relax."

Detective Zur looked at Rebecca and rolled his eyes. "He's such a tough guy. Make sure he gets checked out. Don't take no for an answer."

Rebecca grinned. "
I won't. I'll drive him there myself."

Marcus let out a snort and she whipped around. "What?
Are you suggesting I'm not a good driver?"

"Look where your last trip got you."

"Ha ha, Mr. Big Shot."

He smiled at her
, and it lit his eyes. "I thought I was Mr. Superhero."

"I think I'm going to regret that comment."

"Okay, okay," he said waving his hands in the air. "You can drive my car. I know I'll never get any peace from you unless I go."

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder to say something to the detective, but he was already gone.
"Give me your keys," she said to Marcus. "I promise not to drive us into a river."